


Empty Heaven

by indigo_inkpot (StarboundVoyager)



Series: This Is Going To Hurt [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen, Heat Stroke, Hurt/Comfort, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, Sickfic, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:09:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21517246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarboundVoyager/pseuds/indigo_inkpot
Summary: Dimitri is canonically bad in the heat.You can see where I'm going with this.
Series: This Is Going To Hurt [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576984
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59





	Empty Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri mentions struggling in the hot weather and NOBODY is writing about this??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am wholly and unashamedly bullshitting the Fodlan weather patterns, because topographical research for this took way more time and energy than self indulgent fanfic should do.
> 
> So West Fodlan (Adrestia) is hot, and so is Brigid. North Fodlan is cold, and mountainous? East is, idk, whatever. And further east (Almyra-way) is hot too?
> 
> Yeah, also I have a memory like a sieve and am only 9-ish moons into my second run (Blue Lions) so I this is self indulgent primarily and any attempt to adhere to canon is either accidental or one of the rare facts I actually managed to hold onto.

_I have always despised the heat, even as a child. Still, one must be prepared to fight anywhere, no matter the conditions. Have you any advice for enduring the heat?_

It should've been obvious, that Dimitri would be vulnerable to more than just magic. Many of the northern-born students seemed to find the summer heat thoroughly unpleasant. The Blue Sea Moon always had the potential to be a difficult time; bracketed by the more comfortable Garland and Verdant Rain Moons, but with fewer cooling rains, this month was notable for it's period of intense humid heat, followed by heavy storms. It held onto the warmth of spring, but promised the turn of winter was not far away.

That wasn't to say it wasn't fun to be in Garreg Mach for the Blue Sea Moon. The celebration in honour of Saint Cethleann was a sight to see, and there were quite a few birthdays in short succession everyone was busy preparing for; Caspar, Flayn, then Claude near the end of the month. Birthdays at the monastery seemed to come in drips or floods, according to Manuela, who kept a meticulous log of when she could shower the students in loud affection.

Tensions were a little high, with the looming mission at the end of the month. Even Ferdinand and Lorenz digging out a tea set and promptly offering a cup to anyone and everyone they came across didn't lighten the mood. Running drills seemed to help, and by the second week, Byleth had decided to forgo any other activities in favour of picking up more field assignments and allowing the kids to blow off steam that way. They went out in shifts according to their house assignments, and today it was the turn of the Blue Lions.

Some of their unease was justified; many of the students were trying out new classes on this exercise. Sylvain was saddling up his mount for the first time as a Cavalier, already complaining about the humidity and how sweaty he was going to smell by the time they were done, and Ashe was practically quivering as he strung his bow, having finally passed the Archer exam. Ingrid had passed her Pegasus Knight exam earlier that month, but she never seemed any less eager to go out on manoeuvres. The only person who looked distinctly uncomfortable (and doing a bad job at hiding it) was Dimitri. 

Byleth knew that pulling the prince away from his comfort zone would be risky. His proficiency with lances aside, he had very few applicable skills to the Armoured Knight class, and watching him press closer to Dedue in the unfamiliar leathers of a Brigand with each passing moment began to eat away at Byleth. Both Manuela and Hanneman had been enthusiastic about having the students take a variety of class exams, no matter what their preferences were.

The idea was to encourage Dimitri to grow a little outside of any expectations his royal guardians might have for his academic progress. His offensive strength was impressive, but he had little understanding of how to protect himself, often losing track and needing to be rescued or defended by others.

However, it was one thing to push a student to encourage their growth and it was another entirely to make them afraid on the battlefield because they were unfamiliar with their class. 

The explanation Byleth gave him hadn't sunk in, clearly, because he was still fussing at his armour plating and beginning to sweat already.

The battle was a simple one; routing bandits from the hills around the monastery. The terrain was clear, the weather was hot but held no threat of oncoming storms and while they were outnumbered, the Blue Lions outmatched their opponents when it came to skill. Byleth kept one eye on Dimitri the whole time, and while he was clearly struggling to move in his armour, grunting with effort and puffing heavily as he moved around, he wasn't taking anywhere near as much damage as he had in previous engagements.

They won, as was to be expected, and Byleth announced a celebratory dinner once everyone had gotten back to the monastery and washed off the sweat. The heat had gradually increased over the afternoon, leaving everyone a little damp and overheated, but it was beginning to cool off a little. The sound of the wind picking up through the trees hinted that it might rain heavily overnight, but for now the sky was still clear.

As they were packing away, it became clear that Dimitri was actually struggling _more_ with his armour. He'd managed to remove his heavy shoulder pieces and his knee guards, but couldn't reach the straps of his chest plate and it didn't seem to be able to bend over to loosen his greaves either. He was steadily getting more frustrated, and when Sylvain walked over to lend him a hand, Dimitri snarled and shoved him too roughly for Byleth's liking.

They were about to step in, when Dimitri wobbled suddenly. His face drained of colour and he reached out for Sylvain in panic. Luckily, Sylvain hadn't stepped back at the push, and was close enough to offer Dimitri his arm and brace his head against Sylvain's shoulder.

By the time Byleth and Manuela had rushed over, Dimitri was trembling, clinging to Sylvain's bicep and other hand. He kept swallowing heavily, and the sweat that had been gathering at his hairline during the battle now seemed to drench his whole face. It wasn't uncommon for the students to come down badly from the rush of battle, and the staff had had a 'rescue plan' of sorts in place since Felix's first encounter with adrenaline crash.

"Professor? I -uh," Dimitri stopped to swallow heavily and cling harder to Sylvain, "I think I need to sit down?"

With Sylvain's help, they managed to get Dimitri lowered to the ground, and most of his armour removed. After the heavy chest plate was off, Dimitri resisted but eventually gave in as Manuela guided his head between his knees, trying to breathe steadily. When her hand touched the back of his neck, she frowned.

"We need to get his armour off, and get him back to the infirmary as soon as possible." She reached into the satchel at her side for a scrap of bandage and her water canteen. Drenching the fabric, she used it to wipe the sweat from Dimitri's neck, before upending the rest of the canteen over his hair. Dimitri coughed and shuddered, tightening his grip on Sylvain's hand.

"Sorry dear, but if we don't get your temperature down I'm afraid you're only going to feel worse."

Sylvain frowned, tearing his leather glove off with his teeth to press his hand against Dimitri's face.

"He's cold and clammy, I thought this was shock, like Felix?"

"If it were shock, I'd expect him to be sweating a little, not all over. And I would hope that getting some blood to his head would help, but clearly he's just as faint as he was before he sat down." Manuela sighed, running her hand through Dimitri's hair and swiping the excess water out of his bangs.

It's eventually decided that Dimitri should ride back with Sylvain, to avoid straining himself any further. Stripped of the rest of his armour, leaving him in a thin pair of leggings and tunic, it still takes Byleth on one side and Manuela on the other to ensure he makes it into the saddle in front of Sylvain.

Sylvain chuckled, cracked a joke about Dimitri being the perfect height to ride up front as he props his chin on top of Dimitri's head, and then they're off.

* * *

When asked later, Dimitri admitted being unable to remember much of the ride back to the monastery, which wasn't surprising given the state he was in by the time they arrived back. At some point during the ride, he must've begin to slip, because Sylvain was practically holding him upright, and refused to dismount until Dedue was there to hold Dimitri steady.

That plan worked right up until it didn't, because Dimitri had somehow kept a feverish grip on Sylvain's cloak, and the moment he felt Sylvain move away from him, he woke up swinging. Dedue reached up to hold Dimitri steady by his waist, but the fuss caused Sylvain's horse to spook and begin to back away. Feeling disoriented and caught off guard by the dizzying movement underneath him, Dimitri immediately burst into tears, gripping the saddle and begging for it to stop.

It was Marianne who diffused the situation, recognising the horse and approaching to calm her down. This time, when Sylvain was the one to reach out, Dimitri was more receptive, allowing himself to be lifted down from the saddle. He didn't even attempt to support his own weight, instead clinging to Sylvain's neck and pushing his face against his shoulder.

Sylvain took him straight to the infirmary, sitting on a bed with Dimitri across his lap and trying to ignore the way his arms were beginning to burn. He had a decent amount of height on Dimitri, but Sylvain's strength was in his agility and his horsemanship, which didn't help him carrying the weight of another person to the first floor medical suite.

Manuela was waiting for them, fussing with a bowl of water and several bottles on her work bench. Sylvain was handed a wet towel, and began wiping down Dimitri's face and neck as he'd seen Manuela do earlier. Dedue arrived shortly after, bringing fresh clothes and offering to help. Between the two boys, they were able to get Dimitri's sweat-soaked clothes off him, and into a thinner fresh nightshirt and underwear.

Dedue had brought him loose pants too, but trying to get those on had Dimitri sitting down heavily with a panicked and distinctly nauseated expression. Shirt and underwear it was, then.

Not the most glamorous outfit for a prince, but more comfortable than his amour, and clearly comfortable enough that Dimitri let Sylvain tip him onto the mattress. He wasn't quite asleep, but he seemed calm enough to burrow against the pillow, smearing sweat, water and tears on the linen.

Byleth arrived with Mercedes in tow, and with three white magic users on the scene, they were able to set up a schedule of healing and ice spells to bring Dimitri's temperature down to a more reasonable level. Dedue was in charge of keeping Dimitri from trying to slink off and to keep him hydrated.

"Okay, let's see where we're at," Manuela announced, sitting on the edge of Dimitri's bed. As expected, over the last couple of hours Dimitri had made multiple escape attempts, usually before the application of another ice pack. However, as his temperature started to come down, he was finally too tired to sneak away. This had meant that his complaining increased, whimpering whenever someone removed the covers to stop him overheating or replaced the warm towel on his head with a fresh cold one. He'd mostly just stayed wherever he was dumped after a failed escape, clinging to his pillow while he rode out the nausea from overexerting himself.

"It seems we've managed to get your temperature down a little, and you're not looking half as terrible as you did!"

Sylvain offers a weak cheer from the other side of Dimitri, where he's also lying on the bed. Holding your friend upright on a horse for a considerable distance, then carrying him up a flight of stairs and helping wrestle him back into bed every time he tried to leave can apparently do terrible things to a person's back. Who knew?

After only half an hour of sitting in one of the infirmary chairs, Sylvain had claimed half of Dimitri's mattress. (Everyone was careful to ignore the way Dimitri's escape attempts decreased once he could feel the warm weight of his friend at his back.)

"I'm willing to let you go to the celebratory dinner tonight," Manuela began, " _on the condition_ that you are accompanied at all times, and that you do the minimum amount. No dancing, no racing around and absolutely no alcohol. You stick to water all night, and don't eat yourself sick, you hear me?"

"We have some time before the meal will be served, Your Highness, would you like to go to the dorms and freshen up?" Dedue stepped forward, offering Dimitri his arm.

Dimitri shook his head sharply, pulling the pillow closer and burying his head in it. From Byleth's angle, it was hard to tell, but the prince seemed to be shaking a little harder than before. They exchanged a brief look with Manuela.

"Actually," her tone shifted noticeably. She patted Dimitri's covered knee gently, "I think what you need is a quiet night in, yeah?" She stood up from the bed, moving to pull the heavier blanket from the bottom of the bed. She draped it over Dimitri's legs, allowing him to pull the sheet up to his shoulders, until there was nothing visible of him but sweaty blonde hair spilling over the pillow. Manuela walked back to her desk, making careful eye contact with Byleth.

"Sylvain, Dedue, Mercedes; I think you should go and get cleaned up, we can manage here for a while." The blank look on Byleth's face made it plain that there was no argument to be had here, so the three filed out, Sylvain groaning as his back protested.

Byleth made their way over to Manuela's desk, where she was rearranging bottles and papers.

"He doesn't want to go?" Byleth kept their voice pitched low, enough that even if he could hear it, Dimitri would know this conversation wasn't for him. Manuela glanced up at Byleth, across to Dimitri and back again.

"I can't pretend to know what he wants, but I know a child trying to hide when I see one."

Dimitri's face was still pressed against the pillow, but his grip had slackened as he drifted off to sleep. Byleth made their way over, taking a pillow from another bed to slide under Dimitri's head. He'd get dizzy if he slept with his neck tilted at that angle.

Up close, Byleth could see that Manuela was right; Dimitri had improved. He was still a little clammy, but he wasn't looking as pale, and he definitely felt more like a normal temperature. His eyes were pink around the lids with both old and fresh tears, which made Byleth feel...something, like an echo in an empty chamber.

Not that it mattered right now; the real question was why did Dimitri seem so reluctant to leave the infirmary? Whenever the young prince slipped up in daily life and received (or caused) an injury, it was like he couldn't escape the infirmary fast enough.

What had changed?

* * *

Dimitri made a point of staying asleep, or at the very least feigning it rather convincingly, until the sounds of a party in full swing reached even the infirmary. Manuela had picked up on his behaviour alarmingly quickly, and while he was grateful to have someone play along, he didn't know how to feel about being so easy to read.

He wasn't being entirely dishonest; he had a terrible headache - well, he almost always had a terrible headache, he just didn't mention it - and he felt a little woozy, like he was separated from his body somehow. Having Sylvain lie down with him had helped, but Sylvain wasn't here now, so Dimitri clutched at the mattress under the pillow and tried very hard to breathe.

He blamed the tension in his body and the distraction of his condition for the way he jumped when the infirmary door swung open. Manuela hadn't left that long ago, and while she'd promised to bring him back a selection of treats from the party, he had assumed she would at least take a little time to indulge herself too. It wasn't Manuela who appeared in the doorway, though; it was Professor Byleth. And behind Professor Byleth...

"Thanks Prof, I got it from here!"

Like Dimitri's childish neediness had wished him into the room, Sylvain waltzed in with two overful plates and a canteen on his hip. Byleth offered Dimitri a small wave, before closing the door behind them.

"Okay, for me; protein, protein and more protein. Yikes, I gotta get the Professor to ease up on the heavy armour training. For you; I got Ingrid to make you a little plate of everything easy on the stomach. Lucky you, the bacon smell is killing me!" Sylvain leans over Dimitri to put the plate on the table by his bed, followed by the canteen.

"And that is soup. Don't say I never do anything for ya; that canteen will never be the same again." He laughs, settling on the bed behind Dimitri and digging into his plate.

They stay like that for a moment in silence; Sylvain working on his meal and Dimitri staring a hole into the wall so he doesn't have to look at the plate of food his friends put together for him. That he doesn't deserve because he failed and now the Professor is going to be disappointed in him.

The pain in his head spikes and Dimitri closes his eyes, wishing that the tears building would just go away, he's so tired and he doesn't want to deal with any of this.

"Dimitri? Hey..."

He tries to bury his head in the pillow, but Sylvain is already leaning over him, has already seen the tears, so why even bother to try? Sylvain sighs, puts his plate down next to Dimitri's and lies down behind him again.

The weight of someone at his back settles something in Dimitri. He relaxes, lets his friend pull the covers up over him. Sylvain's arm wraps over the blankets, securing Dimitri in a tight, protective hold.

"Today really did a number on you, huh?" Sylvain asks, breath tickling the back of Dimitri's head. He nods against his pillow, curling tighter around it in shame. He doesn't deserve any of this, and Sylvain is looking after him and being _too nice_ and he doesn't know what to do.

"It's okay, you're alright." Sylvain hushes him, and Dimitri rushes to clap a hand over his mouth. He didn't mean to say that out loud, and he can't stop the sob that comes hiccuping out.

"Just breathe, I'm here, deep breaths." Sylvain's voice is so soothing, and Dimitri remembers when they were kids, the way Sylvain was always the caretaker. Ingrid was the know-it-all, telling them what to do and where to go, but Sylvain was always there to carry them when they got tired or kiss the bruises and scrapes.

Sylvain's hand in Dimitri's hair, smoothing down the sweaty cowlicks and teasing out the tangles, feels so familiar it disorients Dimitri. He turns, reaching blindly for Sylvain when the motion makes him dizzy, and snuffles into his chest. He feels Sylvain laugh, pointed chin propped on the top of his head again.

As Dimitri falls asleep, he thinks that soft brush of lips against his forehead could've been a kiss. Maybe it was.

He'll ask Sylvain in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tense is so weird here, I have no idea what's going on.
> 
> I don't think this is my best work, but it's something, and that's all that matters to me right now.
> 
> Do I just enjoy making characters cry for the sake of it? 
> 
> Pretty much.

**Author's Note:**

> Have a request? Leave character or prompt suggestions below!  
> My preferences are for your traditional whump and comfort topics; someone hurting or sick or sad, and a nice resolution, but if you have something you really want to see, maybe I'll take it on!


End file.
